


irrevocable destiny

by pasazyr



Category: Multi-Fandom, various - Fandom
Genre: Dissociation, Dumbification, Kidnapping, Mind Break, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28257288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasazyr/pseuds/pasazyr
Summary: kidnapped and made into a plaything for him
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> updated whenever i’m in a bad enough headspace to write this

it was addicting, the feeling of numbness. the dull acceptance that came from leaning into the pain of every thrust as he brutally fucked her from behind. her legs were splayed out behind her, unmoving except for the meat on her thighs that jiggled ever so slightly as he pumped in and out without remorse. 

it hurt. but the hurt was spreading from her abdomen to her chest up through her throat until it caught her breath and caused empty tears to prickle at the corners of her eyes. she felt fine. she could handle it. there was no option to do otherwise- even death was out of her reach here, in his domain. she was carefully watched every moment of the day. privacy was a luxury she could only understand as a remnant of the past that would be better off forgotten, lest she fall into an even greater depression thinking of what had been lost. 

all of these days now were filled with despair. it was a keening kind of hurt that sometimes left her crying in a curled up ball if she thought enough about it. usually, she didn’t. it was much simpler to leave her mind and float up to the clouds. the tears kept rolling down her face but inwardly, she felt close to nothing.

this feeling of letting go. that was what she craved now. before, in the earlier days of her captivity, she had hoped to escape this prison with her sanity and body intact. by this time she had learned. the true escape was losing it all. this bliss of not caring about anything. going beyond letting go of the will to live and even giving up on the will to die... it felt like freedom.

suicide had become a tempting prospect after the first few failed escape attempts. she had lost hope of leaving this place with her life intact and had understood it would be a mercy to leave the world instead. but he had comprehended the same. 

with the first suicide attempt, she was watched 24/7 by one of his men. she had already been locked up, and she was often tied, but now it was constant. her wrists were never left unbound and her legs were crippled by his own devices. she wasn’t entirely certain what had happened to them. either he had cut her tendons or inserted some kind of device or obstructed nerve signals in a different way... the outcome was her total inability to walk or even stand without support. 

she had tried to drag herself across the floor, and he had chained her to the bed by a collar like a dog. when the idea came to strangle herself, the lackey watching had intervened so quickly she was barely even able to leave a bruise. from then on, she was routinely drugged to be complacent and still.

in the end, it all added to the feeling of hopelessness. there wasn’t a single way she had control over herself. even her thoughts no longer seemed to be her own- the drugs and psychological warfare he employed had caused her paranoia at first, then broken her own belief in herself. the reality was unsure. her own senses could not be trusted.

gradually, she came out of her reverie as he slowed down his pace. slower, more sensually, he fucked her in and out to an unknown rhythm that ate away at her soul. these moments of lucidity were the worst. she knew her situation. she recognized how much she had lost and how incapable she was of even existing on her own.

leaning over her back, his hand smoothed her skin before she felt a thin slice of pain across the expanse of her flesh. a knife, clutched delicately in his grasp, traced a random swirl in red. it stung. dully she felt the throb of fresh blood flow to the area as her body tried to patch up the scratch.

it was futile, of course. everything was. the obscene noises of his cock sliding around in her messy cunt suddenly seemed to be deafening in the otherwise silent room. she felt acutely the bodily pleasure from his usage of her. of her body. no, of her- for she was his toy in all ways. in every manner.

she also received a kind of sick satisfaction from his rough treatment. the more it hurt, the more she could lean into that feeling. the easier it was to let it overwhelm her senses and detach her consciousness from her environment.

he pulled out and stared at her for several beats; his gaze was heavy on her mutilated bare skin. then his fingers reached down to her pussy, his middle finger easily slipping inside her hole. he closely followed its entrance with the index and ring fingers as well.

then his thumb found her clit and together, they began to rub at her pussy and pump in and out with an easy cadence. her abdomen twitched, and then she stirred. her eyelids flickered and her lips parted in a slutty moan. she couldn’t resist. even numbed out to so many feelings, his ministrations always had an effect. her hips gyrated and without her even realizing it she began to grind against his palm, against his fingers as they played her body with ease.

suddenly, it all stopped. he withdrew her hand, only for her to moan in desperation, her mind totally lost, her control long gone. she had no pride left. her body was not her own. there was no shame to her in begging for his touch. at least she felt something. perhaps it was better to feel nothing, but it wasn’t as though she had a choice, not like this. he was too skillful at breaking open her frozen consciousness for her to fight against his will.

slowly he rubbed at her clit again and explore her pussy with his fingers leisurely, halting the process whenever she became too frenzied and close. the sadistic activity drained her quickly of any energy. soon, the ability to move and wriggle with want was even gone. she could only whimper lowly, hopelessly, while his fingers squelched in her dripping cunt and swirled her slutty juices around and around.

his other hand grabbed at her chin, forcing her head up. the headboard was all she could see at this uncomfortable angle. but then she felt a shifting behind her, and she realized belatedly that he had leaned over her once more.

now, his breath moistened her beck as he bit down below her left ear. “my poor, pitiful little toy. so deliciously wet for me. disgusting girl. you enjoy being raped by me, don’t you?” she was too far gone to even feel a twinge of hesitation before moaning her agreement. his fingers plunged into her pussy, and the hand supporting her neck and chin slipped down her body. he rolled her over onto her side, his free hand grabbing casually at her chest.

he squeezed her flesh with disregard, scoffing as his fingers found a nipple and rolled it roughly. she could not contain her lewd noises of pain and pleasure as his fingers found their way into her warmest, deepest crevices. her cunt shuddered and clutched at the thickness penetrating it.

“you need something bigger, don’t you? greedy girl.”

* * *

she was tired. so, so tired. it was a sinking sort of endlessly falling feeling. like this hard bed was a pit of soft sand that she could relax into as it swallowed her whole.

every part of her body hurt. her throat felt scratchy. every time she swallowed, a sharp blockage answered with a feeling that nearly made her cry out. but she was too exhausted and her voice far too spent to make any noise, so there was no need to even swallow the cries. 

her cunt ached something fierce, but that was nothing new. her body had been desecrated beyond what should have been humanly possible. with that had come bone clenching trauma to her private parts. her pussy had undergone things people shouldn’t be able to survive. a little hard fucking and fingering was a piece of cake compared to that.

her body, overall, was barely functional. her eyes could see, but they stared straight ahead as if unseeing and made of glass. her fingers twitched every so often. underneath her fingernails was caked blood and skin cells from scratching at herself unconsciously. and from playing with herself and cutting open her skin for his pleasure.

in the end, she was just so, so tired.

it felt like it would never stop. she had ceased to hope for release from it all a long time ago. but still she understood that it would be better to lose it all for good. to lose herself for good. to somehow give up this tiny amount of consciousness that prevented her from truly becoming a living breathing doll.

sighing, she then coughed as the exhale became a sputter. over the course of the next minute or so she hacked up a mixture of saliva and stomach acid, paired with cum. it was a disgusting sight. she couldn’t find it in herself to care. one more step to true numbness, she supposed. her dignity was already gone.

losing her pride had been a big blow, but now, it felt like it had been easy. as simple as closing her eyes and going to sleep. giving up her sense of self had been a little more difficult. but she had fairly succeeded. 

all that was left... what was left, anyway?


	2. Chapter 2

sometimes she felt indignant. it was a strange emotion to be feeling, especially because here she had no rights. no reason to feel wronged over anything. but it didn't prevent her from feeling lost, and abandoned at times when he would deny her any affection whatsoever. even just the pure acknowledgement of her existence was too much to hope for at times. and that made her... depressed. the listlessness grew into a grey cloud that hovered over her and consumed her entire consciousness. why did she care? she didn't. it was simple to not care. easier. she had forgotten how easy it was until now.

he was her master, her captor, her kidnapper. and she was just a prisoner. what was the point of hoping for his attention? she should be grateful to be rid of it. yet somehow, the loneliness inside of her begged for his voice and his touch. she wanted to be seen. she wanted at least one individual in the world to remember that she existed.

but all of these thoughts and wants and desires quickly faded away when she was faced with reality. it didn't matter. nothing she thought of mattered. she had no control. nothing.

* * *

she remembered when he had first taken her. she woke up in the room, stripped naked and bound at the ankles and wrists with cords. her mouth was free, though, and she had shouted at him. 

telling him that he wouldn’t get away with this. that her family would find her. that her boyfriend would pay them back for hurting her. that...

so many things. she had said it all, screamed it all out in the belief that it was true. 

nothing she said had been right. nobody came looking. nobody found her. and now, looking back, she wanted to laugh at her stupidity. but before humor could spill over in giggles and snorts, the numbness washed across her body. that was right. nobody cared. this was her true fate.

shuddering, she came dazedly, hardly even realizing that she was being touched by one of his men. they were allowed to play with her sometimes, with his permission. she wasn’t even an exclusive toy. just a slut he lent out to his employees when they did well.


	3. Chapter 3

acknowledging something, accepting it, and understanding it... she thought she had successfully done all of the above. she thought there was nowhere further to fall. even if she couldn’t help her reactions sometimes to the things he put her through, she wasn’t as strongly effected as before.

but still, she wasn’t made of marble. she wasn’t some china doll that could be broken and glued back together, painted over again to look almost flawless. or was she- it was hard to tell. but what was for sure was that the cracks were showing. mentally, with every new perverted idea he came up with, she came apart at the seams even more, unravelled further beyond what was left.

there was still that addicting numbness just out of reach. that wash of apathy and complete lack of care in the world. she could feel it- just on the edge of her consciousness, it was barely out of her range at the moment. for now, she was trapped in this world with him and only him. to be more explicit he was her world.

but she could escape soon, as that weary smoke in her head dispersed and began to fog up her senses until they were dulled into grateful oblivion. this was her best case scenario. the outcome she wished for constantly. lucidity was a nightmare. this? this was a dream come true. a reprieve from the knowledge and memories of everything she had to endure.

tears trickled down her cheeks silently, but their origin... her eyes- they were blank. unseeing. she was focused on the invisible wave that had just washed over her, leaving her feeling empty. he slammed her against the glass. the floor to ceiling view of the city looked like a bunch of glowing lights and dark silhouettes at this time of night, with nothing much else. it was kind of pretty, at least, she might have found it to be so at another time. faintly, she felt him wrench her arms over her head. she slumped forwards, letting her body turn to dead weight. her mind was too far away to manage this mess of skin and bones and flesh anyhow.

the back of his hand slammed against the side of her face, leaving a large scratch from his ring. the sting didn’t manage to pull her from the lull, but it sure did leave a physical impression. even he paused at the sight. even after all this time of marking her up, he could still feel a twinge of something at that pretty face being marred up.

she had used to dwell upon why he did this. was it satisfaction from hurting her? from asserting his dominance and ownership? did he want to feel guilty for some reason? did he thrive on knowing she depended on him to do the most basic, vital functions? 

now, she didn’t wonder much at all. instead, she could only blink and watch with a mild expression from very far away as her body endured an interesting amount of abuse. she accepted her fate. the craving for quick release from this agony was transformed into a quiet, slow passage. mentally, she was nearly gone.

* * *

sometimes, he was kind.

it was a cruel reminder to her that this all was in her head. it was her brain doing this to her. her brain taking in all the sensory information being dished out to her nervous system. her brain doing the processing in order to deliver to her this perfectly packaged torture. if she had a more defective brain, why, she might not have been able to understand what was going on.

but because she was only half as dumb as she wished she could be, she was stuck with this awful comprehension.

as he slid his cock gently into her pussy, leaning forwards to stroke her hair and pull it back with that delicate touch, she remembered the feeling of laughing. she wanted to laugh- that was it. this was so funny- she couldn’t help herself. as he treated her like she was a delicate flower, she could feel the ache of her ankle from several some hours ago when he had ruthlessly tied her up and fucked her roughly. 

she laughed, she did, and he paused. looked at her a bit. his expression, she couldn’t understand it. maybe he was confused, maybe he was amused. he made no sense to her whatsoever so that was not worth thinking about. the contents of his mind were more of a mystery than her situation and fate.

sometimes, like now, he would talk to her. say things she couldn’t make sense of in a language that flowed well but wasn’t her own. in the past he had acted like she was supposed to be able to respond. he had shaken her and tortured her because she gave him confused looks and no verbal answers.

but in the end, she was a pet that couldn’t use her words. it was just another way in which she had lost her humanity.


	4. Chapter 4

it took too much effort to move. sometimes she grew bored and restless. all there was to do here was lie around in bed all day thinking or sleeping. and at those times she wanted to get up. she would twitch her fingertips around the edges of the blanket and then dig them into the softness as though that would give her the willpower to move the rest of her body.

but it took too much effort to move. her legs wouldn’t respond. her lower body felt drained and achey, usually too worn out to slide off the bed and put weight on her legs. sometimes she managed to move around and tumble off the bed and just lie on the floor, feeling the hardness underneath her. she would wonder- if the floor was far enough and she fell on her head, could she crack her skill open? 

could she bleed out and end it all that way? she had hit her head and jaw before. concussions were disorienting and occasionally painful, but not such a bad overall experience. she already felt as though she grew stupider every day, so why not accept the actual brain damage?

but in the end, the bed was barely a foot off the floor if that. sometimes during his time here he would give her drugs and certain drinks and food that made her feel energized. jittery. unstable. she would panic and try to escape from him, shoving him off and then crawling away desperately. it had the possibility to end up with her on the floor, dragging herself around as forcefully as she could with the dead weight of her lower half.


End file.
